


Are you afraid?

by Ratterer



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/F, F/M, Hogwarts AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9803897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratterer/pseuds/Ratterer
Summary: A short series following the times the question 'are you afraid?' was asked by various members of the Miraculous Ladybug cast as they moved through their years at Hogwarts, and the assortment of answers given in return. Planning to do two chapters per school year, and it will be Adrinette centric.





	1. Year 1

“Are you scared?”

It wasn’t a question Alya had expected from the raven-haired girl with a wand of ashwinder venom and the acidic tongue to match, and it startled her enough to turn away from the window and face her new friend. She had exuded nothing but determination and righteousness since she’d tumbled into their carriage shooting verbal flames with her words more powerful than any Incendio charm. Her verbal duel (or perhaps that is not a correct term; that would imply that there had been a retaliation other than shocked gaping) with Chloé had proved Marinette a fearsome but fascinating persona far more than any blood claim or spell repertoire could have hoped to. To hear her articulate any sort of fear at the prospect of going to Hogwarts unsettled Alya more than she knew how to express. After all, if _she_ was afraid of Hogwarts; the same she who stood up to Chloé when no one else had the courage or the words moments after handing out fresh muffins from her bakery; if someone like her didn’t feel like she could excel, then what hope was there for the rest of them? Alya thought back to her parents – they were the wisest people in the world and knew everything from the twelve uses of dragon’s blood to the tastiest chocolate sundae recipe you had ever set your eyes upon. So when they’d kissed her goodbye, they were either lying or wrong, and Alya didn’t want to exist in a world where either had to be true.

Alya remembered how when she was six years old and helping redesign their kitchen, her mother had steered her away from the black and white tile designs to a more muted grey pattern.

“Nothing in this world is truly black and white,” her mother had told her. “There is no good without bad, and no bad without good. There are always more than two choices, more than the black and the white, if you’re willing to look for them.”

_So maybe there was another way._

Alya had been born a witch, raised a witch, taught as a witch and some day she would die a witch. She knew that such a life was the greatest of blessings; not because she thought those born to muggles were worth any less, or because she thought that those without magic were inferior, but because magic gave her such a wonderful opportunity to do great things, and her upbringing had allowed her to appreciate and develop this potential. Her life as a witch would give her great power and influence; she could do so much more with her life than most Muggles could ever aspire to do in their short existences. She could heal with a spell what Muggles took hours in surgery to accomplish; she could discover creatures so fearsome and fantastic that no Muggle could even dream of them. Becoming a doctor or explorer in the non-magical world, therefore, quickly paled in comparison. Alya believed that being a witch gave her the opportunities and resources to become something above anything those without magic could obtain, and as a result she had a responsibility to use it for the good of all humans, with or without magic.

_But Marinette…_

Marinette had been born to Muggles; to the most loving and caring Muggles with the best macaroons Alya had ever tasted, certainly, but still Muggles – Marinette’s upbringing came with none of the simple reassurances that Alya’d had drummed into her before she could even understand the words. Alya knew that her magic was good. Alya knew that magic was a blessing, that its every flicker was a cause for celebration, that a world with magic was a world of colour and joy and beauty, its breath on her face a warm embrace. Marinette, however, knew only the rose’s thorns; knew only the prejudice such powers brought about, knew only that girls like Chloé not only existed but thrived in this place. She’d had a perfect utopia painted in her mind, a world where magic could fix everything, and had it torn in two by Chloé’s sharp tongue and sharper nails. Alya could not imagine leaving everything familiar behind for a world that believed she was inferior just because her parents – her wonderful, sweet, kind parents – couldn’t tell one end of a wand from the other. Marinette, who’d had magic’s every gift and curse thrust upon her precious few months ago, and the positive interactions she’d had with it more precious still, who’d had to defend what no one should have insulted – her _right_ to _exist_ – against a stuck-up bully and her pretty-boy friend, was afraid, and it would surely be impossible to convince her otherwise.

That didn’t mean Alya wasn’t going to try; ‘surely’, Alya had discovered, was rarely so sure as people believed.

“No,” Alya replied at last.

_No, but it’s okay if you are._

_No, but that doesn’t mean you’re weak._

_No, but if you are, maybe I should be._

_No, but.._

“The only thing to fear is fear itself. And Chloé’s horrific fashion sense.”

Marinette let out a surprised laugh, and Alya grinned. Perhaps those words were not what Alya had wanted to say, but they were what Marinette needed right now – the rest could come later. After all, they would be facing this side by side, right?

“Alya Césaire… GRYFFINDOR!”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng… HUFFLEPUFF!”

Well, perhaps slightly further apart than Alya had hoped. But as Alya watched Marinette shyly introduce herself to the blond boy from the train, waving aside his frantic apologies as she easily slipped into conversation with her fellow Badgers, Alya realised that Hogwarts had found the perfect place for Marinette. And as Alya eagerly debated whether Professor Bustier had been justified in confiscating the headphones an outraged boy whose name she’d barely caught before he’d launched into a passionate tirade about self-expression and ‘fundamental DJ rights’, Alya realised that the Sorting Hat’s decision hadn’t worked out so shabbily for herself, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This is my first fanfiction for Miraculous Ladybug so I hope I didn't mess up the characterisations of Alya and Marinette too badly whoops  
> Please leave a comment if there's anything you'd like me to include in future chapters (I haven't quite figured out the plot yet, but it will be loosely following that of the Harry Potter series), if there's anything I could improve upon or simply if you enjoyed it - it would make my day! :)


	2. Quick Update

I'm so sorry that this fic hasn't been updated! Life has been super hectic with school and stuff as of late, and whilst I have the next few chapters planned out, it's been difficult to find the time to actually get them written out.  
I'll do my best to get Chapter 2 out within the next few weeks, but updates to this fic are going to be sporadic for as long as it runs, and for that I'm really sorry.  
Hopefully I'll see you soon with an actual chapter here rather than this awkward little note, but I just wanted to let you guys know that I really appreciated the kudos and comments on this work and it has not been abandoned! :)


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